


A Chilledmas Carol

by Rushar



Category: The Derp Crew (Youtube RPF)
Genre: Blood, Charles Dickens - Freeform, Christmas, Christmas spirits, Death, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rushar/pseuds/Rushar
Summary: Shawn was dead.(with my sincerest apologies to Charles Dickens)





	A Chilledmas Carol

Shawn was dead. There was no doubt about this, nor the manner in its execution. A murder by an unknown person for an unknown cause, perhaps not as simple as anybody would be led to believe. Nevertheless, it was the fact that it was verified by several policemen, the coroner, and perhaps the most valid source of them all, one of his closest friends, Steven.

It was Steven who had found the scene of the crime in their shared apartment, a quiet night out at the movies horribly disturbed by the gruesome sight of blood smeared across the carpet. A scream enough to wake the dead, simply put, hadn't. But it was enough to shatter Steven, leaving him frightened like a nervous rabbit and enough to make him fall ill whenever he lingered in what he once called home. It was for this reason that he was pleading with his friends to let him stay with them for a while, long enough to where he felt safe again.

It was Anthony who offered up his home first and quite willingly, even going so far as to cover the cost of Steven's travels. For some reason, a train was chosen as transportation, but the iron giant was looked upon with welcoming, yet utterly drained eyes. Steven was lulled by the passage of time from the window of the train and he stayed in place, baggage above his head and headphones in his ears, drowning out his immediate surroundings to be lost in a world that was only as he constructed it. In his world, the passage of time was like that in the void spaces of the universe where neither light nor sound could reach. No matter how dismal it may have seemed to any beholding the green-eyed passenger, it was better than the black hole consuming him around the solid fact of Shawn's death.

The channel remained still, no one would erase that. There was simply a small upload stating that there would be no more smiles, or laughter, or gaiety anew to his videos. But forever immortalized in small files, the memory of a man that few knew outside of compacted pixels, compared to those who had heard his notable laugh in the flesh.

So, Steven stared out, watching houses and country pass by, cities glowing as they sped through at night, watched everybody go about as though nothing at all had changed in the world, as though the galaxy hadn't lost one of the stars that Steven had always loved to see most. It was numbing in a way, to think that life was so simple to not know or care about every corpse that fell to the earth or see the light leave from every soul's face. Steven was shivering, he always was now, but it didn't bother him. Every tremor of his bones was just another death that the hive mind couldn't stop to acknowledge or mourn. He was expendable to the world, just as Shawn had been, and his death would make no more people grieve than those who had wept over his late friend.

With this realization, Steven fell into bitterness. The rest of the time on the train, he slept, silence filling his ears until he could almost imagine that there was a ringing noise, piercing through his dreams and shooting through his lips until he was screaming, laughing at the sheer uselessness of it all. People stared at him and children cried, he was asked to leave at the next platform but that was his stop anyway. His luggage fell beside him as he left the train, watching it depart and go on; he would never ride that train again. There was a small crowd gathered around a homeless teenager in the station, begging for change with a faded beanie. Steven passed by, considering emptying his wallet for the boy but deciding against it - in the fate of the world, he was surrounded by all the nameless faces he passed by and to the teen, he would be just another. It consumed him as snow began to fall, drifting down to the city as a cold reminder of how repetitive and pointless the process of living was. It did not affect him, he had frozen over on the journey there. And though his breath clouded at the door to Anthony's apartment, giving off the impression that he was filled with warmth, he felt none such sensation, for what was life without a meaning?

Anthony answered the dull knocks with an enthusiasm that suggested perhaps he hadn't heard correctly; Steven had knocked with a dismal intent behind his fingers and it was _not_ meant to be reciprocated with the wide smile and dimples that it was greeted with. Vaguely, Steven considered closing the door in its owner's face and trying again, but before he could think about it much further, Anthony was pulling him inside and giving him a hug that Steven was also not expecting, and least of all for it to start chipping away at the newly constructed icy barrier around his heart. With a grimace, he pulled free of Anthony's embrace, frowning deeper as he looked up at the confused man.

"Merry Christmas Eve!" Anthony's voice was loud and bright, like bells that made blood pour from ears and tears automatically spring to one's eyes. Steven screwed up his face, sure that he appeared unapproachable by this state.

"What are you merry about? There's nothing but death ahead of us; New Year's is just another step closer to the abyss, why should we be celebrating?" Steven huffed with great annoyance, finding a sick pleasure in watching Anthony's smile fall from his face.

"Because... because I get to spend time with people I care about? And you, Steven, I'm getting to spend time with you. Why shouldn't I be happy?" Anthony took a step away from him, clearly unsure if he should react to this situation with caution or with the bouncy energy that he usually took on when he was talking to Steven.

"The inevitability of death and the meaninglessness of life? Perhaps those matters should hold you over for a little while," Steven, with a huff, left Anthony standing alone and took his suitcase over to the air mattress in a corner of the living area, next to a small nightlight. It already had a pillow and spare blanket resting neatly on it and next to them, a small present with the words "open on Christmas" written in Anthony's signature on the front. Steven placed it gently to the side, not forgetting how fond he was of his friend on a good day.

He wasn't angry at Anthony specifically; it was more about the fact that everyone was so _helpless_ to control their own life until it was forcefully ripped from their fingertips, upsetting the patchwork of people around them but leaving the rest of the world undamaged. It was brutally unfair and that had never sat well with Steven.

After a little while spent mindlessly scrolling through Twitter where he was being sent numerous empty condolences, Steven was brought back into a conscious mindset by a hesitant tap on his shoulder. He looked up with a scowl twisted onto his face and saw Anthony hovering above him anxiously with a steaming mug clasped in his hands. He offered it to Steven with the air of a kicked puppy, frightened he would be rebuked or punished again.

Upon closer examination of the drink, it appeared to be hot cocoa, and Steven accepted it, his face lightening a fraction. "I - I understand you're upset about Shawn. And I can't make it better or make you happy, but I'm trying. I'm gonna try."

Steven sipped his cocoa, noting with surprise the tiny marshmallows bobbing around. It tasted vaguely like hazelnut and nutmeg, but it still wasn't enough to alter his decision to close himself off from the world. Not even the sweetest man he knew could change his mind.

"Thanks. But like you said, you can't make me happy." Anthony's face dropped, timid smile vanishing. He walked away, crestfallen and rejected. Steven watched him go, the sweet cocoa suddenly tasting bitter on his tongue. With nothing else left to do and it already being well past eleven o'clock, Steven placed his half-empty cup on the floor next to his makeshift bed, turned off the light from the switches on the wall to his back, and lay down. He burrowed under the blankets and sank into the pillow, surrounded by the faint vanilla and mint smell that hung throughout Anthony's house. He could hear his host shuffling around a few rooms away; a few sniffles echoed through the wall and then the mattress creaked as Anthony presumably lay down on it. Shortly thereafter, silence filled the apartment with a heavy tension, weighing down on Steven's mind. But more pressing than that was the weights on his eyelids, lulling him to sleep through sheer exhaustion over being so bitter.

His eyes drifted shut, but the silence forced him to stay awake and stay alert. The last time there had been a silence so suffocating, there was a dead body on the floor in front of him with space and reality warping away beneath him. Now, it seemed something similar was happening. Phantom humming and plucking, as though on a guitar, was floating through Steven's mind - memories that would never go away and always be there to haunt him. A whisper of a knocking sound joined the infuriating distant cacophony of memories that clouded Steven's thoughts, only this new sound grew louder and louder until Steven finally snapped open his eyes and saw the door to the apartment shaking on its hinges from the force in which it was being rattled. He sat straight up and pulled his blankets up to his chin, watching the door with frightened eyes as finally the wood caved and broke inwards, spilling light from the hallway into the room. A shadow was cast across the floor although it never seemed to connect with a solid form. Instead, the figure's ankles were misty illusions, rising to connect to a more put-together form. Its arms were bound in a straitjacket, yet somehow the door had managed to be broken by its fists. When Steven finally glanced at its face, it took all he could do to repress a scream of terror.

It was Shawn, blood matted and dripping from his hair. It had congealed across his left eye, leaving it permanently stuck shut. He was covered in piercings, more than Steven had ever seen him wear and a chain hung from his left ear like he was some sort of punk rocker. Most gruesome of all was a pair of snake bites that held his lips together so that it appeared he was unable to speak.

But physics had no laws and he opened his mouth, piercings tearing the skin and letting blood flow down his chin, then resealing whenever he finished speaking. "Ze. Steven. Stop running, buddy." Shawn's right eye was a cloudy grey, yet trained on Steven with a judgmental, hawk-like glare. "I thought you wanted to feel different."

"Y-you're dead," Steven stuttered, shakily scrambling back as far from the - the _abomination_ as possible. "You're not real. Just a hallucination. R-right." Shawn gazed at Steven with his dead eye, unimpressed by his pitiful display of courage. Shawn simply walked over to Steven, picked up the mug that was sitting beside his bed, and dropped it, letting it smash on the floor, cold cocoa and ceramic shards flying everywhere. Steven started. "O-oh. O-okay then, definitely real."

"Dumbass.  Of course I’m real!  I can’t ever leave!” Shawn laughed sarcastically, speckles of blood flying from his lips where the piercings dug into the flesh.  “I left things unsaid in this world, disregarded what was told to me.  Unfinished business can really keep you around.”

“I – I don’t understand,” Steven spoke haltingly.  “What do you mean, unfinished business?”

“Something went unsolved and I clung to it,” Shawn eyed Steven warily.  “I should have acted, or let it be resolved.  Don’t let this be your fate too.  You have a choice, a path that you are undecided on.  Don't take your love for granted."  Shawn grimaced, which looked more painful than anything else. "In about twenty minutes, there will be someone coming to get you. Until then, I'm gonna let you think. Seeya nerd." And with that, Shawn ripped his arm free of the straitjacket to give Steven a thumbs up before dissipating like fog.

Steven blinked, not sure he could trust himself and what he had just seen. But the mug was broken and the door to Anthony's apartment was in splinters. Just to make sure he wasn't dreaming, Steven picked up one of the ceramic pieces and cautiously ran it over his arm. He hissed loudly as blood welled up from the shallow scratch he had inflicted, cursing himself for deciding to do something that stupid. With a sigh, he went over to the small kitchen and grabbed a dish towel, holding it over his arm. It was just a tiny scrape, even with hemophilia it shouldn't bleed for too long.

After fifteen minutes though, blood was still slowly beading up on his skin. Steven was starting to get extremely worried now; the dish towel was completely ruined, dotted with dark garnet splotches.

"Anthony?" Steven called out, his wavering voice echoing down the hallway. There was no answer or movement from Anthony's bedroom but another ghostly figure wandered out into the hall. Steven squinted, unsure of who exactly it was at first, although they seemed familiar.

“Hey, Steven!” a voice called back, and that’s when it clicked.  Steven began to walk forwards upon recognizing the sound of Aphex’s voice but paused when the shock of seeing his friend’s appearance manifested.  It was his friend, but there wasn’t a flaw about his body, his hair was long and icy white, and colourful sparks occasionally popped around him.  Also…

“Are you wearing a dress?” Steven blurted out.  Aphex looked down at himself and his attire, a long wool cloth with a glittering belt around his waist.

“I’d say it’s more of a tunic, but whatever man.  Well, it does kind of look like a dress, but it’s really comfy!  Anyway, I need to show you some things.”  Steven stared at his friend and wondered if Anthony had put LSD in his hot chocolate because it was beginning to feel like a bad trip.  “You’re forgetting what good things you’ve had in your life.  And,” Aphex glanced, “It’s midnight.  Twenty minutes since Shawn was here, right?”

Steven opened his mouth to ask how Aphex would know that but before he could, Aphex grabbed Steven’s still-bleeding arm and led him over to the door. Like Shawn's spirit, his feet weren't fully there and bound to the floor, yet he moved his legs as though there were the same wood and tile under him that supported Steven. When they stepped through the door, Steven wasn't greeted with the sight of the expected hallway, but rather a room familiar to him from years of residence. A small computer hummed away in the corner, shitty headphones and mic placed carelessly beside it. The rest of the room was in typical disarray and a phone lay absent next to a singular monitor.

"This - this is my room," Steven's hand flitted up to his mouth and pressed against his lips. From outside of a window, large fluffy snowflakes drifted down to gather on the sill. "In my parent's house. Why are we here?"

“Shh, just wait,” Aphex shushed him and pointed to the computer, a very old version of Skype displaying on the monitor.  As they watched, the obnoxiously familiar ringtone blared through the headset lying on the desk, a notification showing up that Chilled Chaos was ringing.  Hurried footsteps pounded towards the room and the door was sent crashing open and nearly slammed shut again as a much younger version of Steven, looking rather battered and worse for wear, sprinted to answer the call.  Present day Steven began to panic, fearing that the past version of himself might see him, but Aphex, sensing his thoughts, shook his head and let a few more sparks fly loose.  They were mere thoughts in this memory, not to be regarded as more than just phantoms.

Past Steven clicked the accept button without plugging in his headphones, letting his future self eavesdrop on a conversation that he knew he could have recited by heart with correct emphasis on every syllable. It pained him, tugged at his defences to recall such a time.

"Ze!" Anthony's voice greeted, staticky and slurred but still wonderfully bright. Over time they would both become more expressive and clearer, letting their words ring out with confidence. But here, in 2011, they were just a couple of nobodies who weren't yet used to people wanting to hear them speak. "Where were you? You said that we would record today but you didn't show up and you weren't answering your texts. I was really worried!" Present Steven could almost hear Anthony's lips trembling as they did whenever he got scared.

"I'm so so sorry Chilled, I had, uh, an accident, so I was at the hospital for a little while. I'm okay now though, I promise," past Steven was blushing slightly and the present day phantom recalled the feelings of confusion, hope, and admiration for Anthony that he had felt back then. "It's nothing bad, I fell down some stairs and got pretty banged up and for me, well, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Thank god you're okay Ze, but you have to tell me these things!" Anthony sounded as though he was on the verge of tears now and the present-day Steven could imagine him gripping his desk with white-knuckled fingers. "I'm sorry, just, I can't lose you. I know we haven't known each other for long but..." silence for a few seconds. "But you're my best friend. I've never met someone like you and I don't think I'd want to because you're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

"Chill- Anthony," younger Steven was trying to find words that would even come close to describing how he was feeling, yet he was ultimately failing. There was undeniably something that needed to be said, but the risks of terrible repercussions were too great, and so he let the words slide from his tongue to leave him with the bitter taste of dissatisfaction. Instead, he settled with a simple "I don't want to be without you either," letting the implications hang in the air as though they were a breath of dry wind that had gone unnoticed. They fell into quiet murmurs and Steven was so focused on their younger selves that it took him quite by surprise when Aphex took his arm and passed through the door into another scene. It was from a few years ago when they were filming the "date" video and they had taken a quick break after visiting their friends' houses to grab some food at a diner. They sat across from each other in silence, both feeling slightly awkward about the filming of the day. Steven of the past cleared his throat to break the tense silence and patted Anthony's hand to get his attention.

"Chilled... I know today has been kind of weird but you know you can still talk to me if you wanna get over the awkwardness," Steven offered, disappointed that Anthony wasn't meeting his eyes or even looking up from his sandwich. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just thinking," Anthony said bitterly, apparently finding the bread very offensive as he directed his glare towards it. "I feel like what's happening in the video plot is happening in real life right now. That something's going on behind my back."

Steven paused, humming a bit as he tried to think of what to say, the white noise stretching between them like a void. He watched as Anthony mindlessly scratched at his arms, a nervous habit that to his knowledge, had never gone further, but was enough to set him on edge. Everyone had their anxious tics, but the possibilities of what could be running through Anthony's head when he did that scared Steven to even think of.

"Even if there is something, I think what's going through your head should be prioritised over rumours or anything else of the sort. After all, the only time your life should be judged is when you judge it in your own head. You're the only person you have to live with all the time at all hours of the day. No matter what, you are the most important thing." Anthony finally looked up at Steven and managed to crack a smile.

"I'm okay, really Ze... and thanks for that. I kinda needed it," Anthony admitted almost... shyly? -before blushing and whispering something under his breath that neither Steven could catch.

Aphex startled Steven when he once again grabbed his arm to lead him to a different scene.  Steven turned to the spirit with questioning eyes as the new location slowly appeared, but before the question could even slip from his tongue, the ghost that had taken the form of his friend had answered for him. "Chilled was telling you that you were at least tied for the most important thing in his mind. That evening was monumental for him. Treat that memory as such."  Steven would have replied, but once again was struck with silence.  He didn’t like this anymore.  The very sight of the room made Steven tense and his previous calm state was awash with a wave of anger. 

“Don’t show me this,” Steven growled, watching as Shawn, intact and very much alive, walked into the room of the past.  Steven’s former self, sitting at his desk, spun around and greeted his friend with a wide smile.

“Hey friendo,” Shawn chirped, eyes smiling along with the rest of his face.  The present-day Steven tried to turn away, but Aphex grabbed him and held him in place so that he would be forced to watch the scene in front of him.

“Hey bud,” Past-Steven swung himself around in the chair, grinning up at Shawn.  “How goes it?”

“Just the usual.  Do you mind if I, uh, tell you something?”  Both of their faces dimmed at the tone and Steven gestured for Shawn to sit on the bed, closing the video software he had open on the computer.  “I get that we haven’t been roommates for very long, but you’re a really good friend.  That’s why I wanted to ask you… if you had a crush on someone, someone you had known for awhile, but you were pretty sure they weren’t interested in you – or they just weren’t interested in that gender – would you tell them?  If it meant risking your friendship with this person, but you just needed to know if they could possibly feel the same, would you do it?  Should I do it?”

Present day Steven squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn’t stop from hearing his past self’s reply.  “…Shit. Um, heh, Shawn, I may not be the best person to ask.  I’ve been, um, stuck in that position for a few years now with someone.  We’re still friends, great friends, but I just can’t bear to think what would happen if he reacted badly.”

“He?”

“You know who it is.”  Steven laughed bitterly.  “I’ve liked Chilled since I figured out my sexuality.  I’ve tried to get into other people, but I just… couldn’t.  Now I’m stuck in love with a definitely-straight man.”

“Oh.”  The heartbreak in Shawn’s voice was almost tangible and everybody in the room, both there and not, knew who Shawn had been talking about before.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” Steven was breaking down.  “I should move on, but I can’t no matter how I try.  I’m sorry.”

“This,” Shawn swallowed.  “Will this change anything between us?”  There was silence, then a faint breath.  Steven had been shaking his head, determined not to ruin anything.  Present day Steven barely noticed as the temperature changed, Aphex bringing him back to Anthony’s kitchen.  The few weeks after the confession had been hell, as Shawn tried to avoid Steven and Steven tried to be as nice as possible to make up for letting Shawn down.  It had taken multiple pizzas, an intervention from Nick – who was tired of his roommates being awkward around each other – and a levelheaded talk to finally iron things out.

“You meant a lot to him, always.  He never stopped liking you, but he understood who you needed.  You did nothing wrong.”

“But it still feels like I should’ve been better for him,” Steven murmured, finally lifting his head.  He was alone again, Aphex taking his leave now that his duty was over.  Steven breathed out, checking the oven clock and doing a double take. That just wasn't possible - if the time was correct, Shawn had just warned him of twenty minutes to go. But time had passed, he was certain of this. The cut on his arm was still bleeding, perhaps more than ever now, and trails were dripping onto the floor to condense into little pools of garnet. He wandered over to the sink, rinsing the blood off his arm as best as he could, although his mind was on the scenes he had been shown. There was something clearly amiss with the young man, still sleeping soundly a few rooms away, but Steven couldn't quite yet put his finger on it. Before long though, soon to the time when Aphex’s ghost had appeared, a tempting scent drifted through the air, making Steven pause and shut the water off, concluding that the cut just wasn't going to stop beading up blood anytime soon. Instead, he tied a dish towel around it, hoping that it would do as a makeshift bandage, before going to investigate the source of the delicious smell.

Steven flinched momentarily as blunt claws dug into his skin, before realizing Rex had just made his way over to him.  Anthony had shut up his dog in another room earlier, perhaps wanted to create as little chaos as possible for Steven when he arrived, but Rex had managed to escape and was now happily bounding around the room.  Rex plucked up a battered stuffed toy from the floor and chewed on it as he trotted back over to Steven’s side, walking with him to the door to the apartment, where the savoury scent emanated.  Golden light streamed from the hinges, bathing the hallway in a faint, warm glow.

Steven pulled the door open, the hinges creaking as the door opened to reveal a snowy countryside.  The white powder was knee high, and the light reflected from the crystals to make the ground blindingly white and pure.  Rex wasted no time in leaping across the snow, easily able to cover the distance in long strides.  Steven looked up as the door shut silently behind him, vanishing and leaving nothing but a rolling countryside to his back. In the centre of the beacon, a figure was sitting cross-legged next to a smaller, more canine shape. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, but as the light died down to a faint burn, Steven was able to distinctly see the bright smile on the man's face.

Its face was Max's, cheerful and friendly. The canine by his side, Malcolm the husky, barked at Rex, running to the lanky pup to greet him with a wagging tail. Holly and ivy grew as though there was something to which they were clinging, forming a cave around the phantom. And while this ghost was no more of Max than the previous spirit was Aphex, Steven found himself delighted to be greeted by his friend.  Indeed too, there was life all around Max, plants bursting through the blanket of snow and sweet honeysuckle entwined around his fingers. Poinsettia flowers bloomed from beside his feet and small creatures hopped around the vined enclave with no fear, only taking refuge from the mild frost outside. A deep evergreen and crimson flourished in his presence, graced with the golden light that seemed to emanate from his very heart. It was a breath of fresh air, a den to which Steven could seek shelter for himself. The dogs barked and chased each other with joy around Max's feet, nipping playfully at each other with no real ill intent behind their teeth.  They played tug-of-war with the toy, the only one suffering being the poor toy itself.

"Steven," Max greeted warmly. "I am here to show you the life that is - if you will come with me and do so with a willing mind."

"I will," Steven agreed, stepping forwards to allow Max to place a hand on his back and guide him out into the lonely pastures. The dogs followed them, trotting curiously after as the landscape changed around them, snow melting to a landscape of concrete, down a street so familiar to Steven that he could have walked it with his eyes closed. It was his parent's house, and they passed through the door as though the wood were nothing more than oxygen. Steven's family was gathered in the living room, having just settled from a pleasant supper and playing a board game gathered around the table. They moved the pieces around with little bits of commentary, laughing as they made jokes about the figurines. It was an odd three people, being just Steven's immediate family, minus of course, himself.

"I wish Steven was here," his mother sighed aloud, rolling the dice around in her hand absentmindedly. "I know he's upset about his friend, but if only he would talk about it!"

"Mom, he'll be okay," Steven's sister reassured with a smile. "He's staying with one of his really close friends. They both knew Shawn so it will help him more. Besides, he promised to visit us at New Year's."

"I know, but it's just not Christmas without the all of us." At this, Steven's dad patted his mom's hand with a gentle grin.

"Then I guess we'll just have to be all the more merry for his thought." After that, they fell back into the jovial nature of before. Steven wished with all his heart now that he hadn't been so dismissive of his family's pleas and that he could spend Christmas with them, but before he could voice this to the spirit, he was once again led away into another scene, dogs still quietly following.

Steven was now in the middle of a Christmas party that hosted some of his YouTube friends who lived in Los Angeles. They moved and laughed around his without acknowledging his presence in the slightest, their smiles not for him or for Max, standing by his side. Malcolm and Rex wandered off, seemingly following the smell of food from the kitchen, happy to explore.  It was Adam's house, and the man himself was drifting around like a beacon of light, smiling at everyone and engaging in conversations that seemed strangely calm for someone of such a bubbly nature. Jordan and Craig were laughing at something over on a couch and Cathy was trailing after Adam with a large, shining smile on her face. There were people there that Steven had never met in real life and people that he had never met at all. It was a cheerful gathering, full of merriment, and Steven's heart warmed to see his friends so happy together. Max let him watch the party for a few hours, allowing him to mingle in people's conversations like a silent guardian. Eventually though, when people started to leave, Max rounded up Steven and the animals, leading them through the doorway.  They didn’t need to speak much, only experience their surroundings.

“You see now, what is living on around you as you remain rooted in sorrow." As Max spoke, the landscape melted back to the fields and den of vines like where they had met. "This is where I depart with you, Steven. This is what you are leaving to the past. I can only warn you of what is to come. It's your choice - so choose wisely."  Max gave Steven one last smile and patted Rex's head before turning Steven around.

He was met with Anthony's kitchen once more, this time with Rex curiously peering up at him. No time had passed from his meeting with Shawn yet again, but when peered at his arm, neglected as he flitted around the world with the spirit of the present, he found it more drenched in blood than ever, pouring in waterfalls even from such a small cut. There was no stopping or delaying the rivers of scarlet pouring from his veins so he left it, marked in his skin as he awaited the last foretold with a morbid earnestness.

And so, at the time in which the other spirits appeared, so did the final phantom. It didn't glide like Aphex or walk like Max, but twisted and warped each step in a frightful and wholly unnatural way. Rex fled from Steven's side with a whine, tail tucked between his legs out of fear for this manifestation of choking terror. It was tall, with far more height than Steven could ever dream about, and intimidation on its side.  Steven, though he was struck with fear, felt an odd sense of familiarity with the spirit.  Almost as if it was one of his and Anthony’s good friends… and the name… Steven remembered nothing, other than the notion that the final spirit was a woman. 

“You’ll -” Steven lost his voice.  He tried again, and again, but failed.  He breathed out and then felt the words he wanted to say in the air.  _You’ll show me what I need to see next?  The future?_ His thoughts.  His very mind was being projected in the presence of this spirit.

The spirit only stretched out a faded, silken hand and pointed past Steven.  Steven swallowed but did not turn around. 

 _Do you mean to hurt me?_   The spirit shifted her cloaked head and her wispy hand crooked a little.  The energy surrounding the spirit gave off the firm and resolute aura of disagreement.  _Then, I guess, show me what lies ahead._

Steven turned around and was immediately met with the sight of Anthony.  His friend looked more tired than usual, a bit older, and much sadder.  He no longer had as much light in his eyes and somehow, Steven could no longer picture Anthony’s dimples being etched onto this face.  He was sitting at a new computer setup and with a shock, Steven realized that Anthony was looking through videos on Steven’s channel.

All of the upload dates were sporadic, dates from a few months in the future from present-day Steven, but looking at the date displayed on the taskbar showed that it was two years after the latest upload.  Steven was stunned by the state of his own channel, but even more so by Anthony’s defeated reaction.

“Goddammit Steven,” Anthony’s voice was broken.  “Why did you have to leave?  Why couldn’t you stay with me?”

Steven’s bones were chilled by the words.  Had he stopped talking to his friends?  Was he dead?  There were gaps, but Anthony’s reactions gave no indication as to what had become of Steven’s fate.  The spirit’s presence only filled the room with darker energy, setting the mood ominously for the future.

 _I don’t want to be here._ Steven bit his lip and turned away from both the spirit and Anthony.  The spirit made a noise then, something unearthly and horrifying.  It was a screech of death, a wailing noise, a shrill of a train whistle, everything that could pierce someone’s eardrums to drive them to deafness.  Steven clasped his hands over his ears, falling to his knees over the sheer fear of the spirit’s anger.  Eventually, the sound died away, but the shaded cloth still swirled in a fragmented storm where the spirit stood.

Anthony, being no more than a vision, had not reacted to the spirit’s rage.  He stood, finally, and walked to another room to gaze out of the window.  Snow was falling – it was Christmas and he was spending it alone.  Steven shakily stood again, following through the open door and staying behind Anthony.  As always, the spirit lingered.

“If only I’d told you when you were staying with me after Shawn died.  If I’d have known that was the last time I’d get to see you, then maybe…” Anthony cut off into a broken laugh.  “Maybe this wouldn’t have been our future.”

Unexpectedly, Anthony turned and looked directly at Steven.  A trio of voices, the spirits who Steven had spoken to that night echoed out of his mouth, the spirit of the future silently watching on.  “This is not set in stone,” the voices of Shawn, Aphex, and Max tripled together into a warped quality, speaking from Anthony.  “This is a shade, a possibility.  You know not what shall happen to you, but you see what your love shall become.  Here is your choice.”

“My choice,” Steven felt his heart shatter.  He couldn’t close himself off enough to not care.  He couldn’t leave this as the future.  He thought back to Shawn’s visit, what seemed like years ago but could have only been hours, maybe even minutes.

“I should have acted, or let it be resolved,” three voices spoke again, but this time Shawn was louder than any of them.  “Do you act?  Or do you pass it by?  There is nothing to resolve, for you can’t control what you feel any longer.”

“Anthony,” Steven murmured.  “He – I don’t want this future.”

“Then act!” the voices chorused, and the scene disappeared – spectres, spirits, and visions alike.  Steven was left standing on his own in a place with no colour, and yet all the colour in the world.  He was blind, could see, deaf but yet there was too much noise to focus on.  It felt like his soul was ripping apart under the stress of this dimension.  He lifted his arm and was nearly sick as he saw the gash on his blood-soaked arm.  It had torn to reveal the tendons and bones underneath the skin, showing off Steven’s twisted insides for all to see.  Everything pressed down on him suddenly and the realization that anaemia was setting in forced Steven into a hazy panic.  He didn’t want to die, he had more to say, more to do, _he had to tell Anthony!_

Dark.

 

XxX

 

Steven woke up.

He woke up.

It was a dream, or maybe it was real, or maybe it was both.  Steven didn’t care because he remembered every detail, every emotion, every last voice and conversation.  He knew what he needed to do to set his future on the right course.

And as though he could sense the aura change, Anthony walked into the living room in pyjama pants and an oversized T-shirt, blearily rubbing his eyes as though he was struggling to wake up.  “Coffee,” he mumbled, attempting to turn towards the kitchen but instead running into a doorframe.  Steven laughed involuntarily and Anthony’s head snapped towards him, a smile forming on his face.  “Hey!  Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Steven got up and made his way over to Anthony quickly, and made a split second decision, hoping to everything that he hadn’t misread all of the signs as he pulled Anthony into a deep kiss.  He could feel Anthony give a small gasp against his lips after a brief shock, but then he reciprocated the kiss, embracing Steven as though to make sure he wouldn’t leave.

“Whoa,” Anthony said almost a minute later after they had parted.  His eyes were wide and it looked like he was trying to contain his excitement.  “Were you?  I mean – actually – _me?”_

“Yes, you,” Steven grinned and gave Anthony a small kiss.  “I like you.  I have for a while now, but I never got the courage to tell you.”

“Me too!” Anthony blushed, smacking his forehead lightly.  “I don’t know how neither of us realized.  I was gonna tell you, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it.  What – I mean, what made you decide to do it now?”

“That’s just something you’ll have to be content with not knowing,” Steven ducked his head and chuckled.  “I don’t think you’d believe me anyway.”

“Alright,” Anthony shrugged but didn’t seem too off-put.  “Hey, since we’re both awake, you should open your present!”  He pointed beneath the tree, to the present that read ‘open on Christmas’ and they walked over, sitting on the air mattress together.  Steven carefully unwrapped the package, glancing up at Anthony as he did, until he finally got to the gift itself.  Anthony’s hand took Steven’s own as he gasped, pulling out a picture with a redwood frame.  The picture itself was a collage of memories, a dozen snapshots of Steven and Anthony.  They were laughing, smiling, posing, and having fun in every single one.  In the middle, splitting the collage into top and bottom, was the word ‘forever’, once again in Anthony’s handwriting.

“I’m not crying,” Steven stubbornly denied, wiping the corners of his eyes.  “Just, sometimes, I get so happy that it comes out of my eyes.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Anthony smiled and pressed another kiss to Steven’s temple.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Steven beamed, returning the kiss.  It was perfect.  Steven couldn’t believe he had waited for so long, feared so much, and nearly lost his chance to have everything he had now.  Anthony loved him back, he felt happy and safe, and not to be left out, Rex ran into the living room and jumped on them both, licking their faces excitedly as they laughed, finally content with the future.

_Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> it only took a year... and staying up until 5 last night to finish it. ghhh, so happy it's finished though!  
> also yes i do ship a little bit of Ritze


End file.
